


Alone Together

by kirakira_nanoda



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Spoilers for Season 3, The Sign of Three, slightly incestuous but can be read as mere sibling love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakira_nanoda/pseuds/kirakira_nanoda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes home early from the wedding, Mycroft tries to understand the reasons why he went in the first place. Whatever the reason, at least by the end of the night, Sherlock got to dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song with the same name by Fall Out Boy.
> 
> I just really wanted Sherlock to dance ok

Mycroft heard the key turn in the lock, the door opening and shutting. Really Sherlock hadn’t even _tried_ to be quiet this time.

 

‘You’ve gotten into the terrible habit of just letting yourself in, Sherlock,’ Mycroft called out. He heard Sherlock in the entrance hall. At least he was bothering to wipe his feet this time.

 

‘Well, you gave me the key.’

 

‘Aren’t you supposed to still be at that night do?’

 

Sherlock threw himself down in the chair opposite him but didn’t say anything. Mycroft immediately understood. ‘Oh, brother dear. I do hate to see you like this, even if it is your own fault.’

 

Sherlock took a shuddering breath. ‘I did honestly believe, just for a moment, that things wouldn’t have to change.’

 

‘Well, we did always know you weren’t that smart.’ Sherlock just nodded and Mycroft could see the tears that would have fallen if his brother had less control over his emotions. Mycroft inwardly sighed. He really did hate what forming this relationship with John had done to him.

 

‘Did you at least get to dance?’ Mycroft may not have understood the emotional reasons and attachments that had compelled Sherlock to attend the wedding, but he did know rarely an opportunity to dance passed without Sherlock taking it up.

 

Sherlock laughed, short and sad. ‘You know what? I didn’t even get the chance.’

 

Mycroft nodded and swiftly stood, extending a hand to his brother. ‘Shall we?’ Sherlock looked up at him. ‘Lord knows I despise the exercise, but you will agree dancing is a lot less boring than running on a treadmill.’

 

‘You don’t have to, Mycroft. Really, I’m fine.’

 

‘No, you’re not,’ Mycroft said bluntly. ‘And you’re boring when you’re sombre. At least let me _try_ and cheer you up. Don’t pretend to hesitate,’ he added. ‘It’s me, I can see right through you.’

 

Sherlock sighed, but took Mycroft’s hand, allowing his brother to pull him from his chair.

 

‘Can’t I lead?’ Sherlock asked.

 

‘No, I’m taller, it makes more sense for me to lead.’

 

‘You’re _hardly_ taller.’

 

‘Yet, I am still taller.’ Sherlock rolled his eyes, begrudgingly running his hand up Mycroft’s arm to settle on his shoulder.

 

Mycroft began to lead them in a waltz, pace set to the rhythm of the song in his head. It was the one they usually waltzed to, but it quickly became apparent that it was not the song Sherlock was listening to. That never happened. Mycroft stopped, causing Sherlock to bump into him.

 

‘What on earth are you listening to?’ he asked. Sherlock looked confused for a moment before a kind of sad realization crossed his features.

 

‘I… may have been listening to the song I composed for John and Mary,’ he confessed.

 

‘Well how on earth am I supposed to know how that goes?’

 

‘Apologies, I’ll stick to a regular waltz tempo. Can I lead this time?’

 

‘Oh, if you really must.’

 

Sherlock’s hand slid down to his brother’s waist, and Mycroft’s moved to settle at the back of Sherlock’s neck. He would tell Sherlock it was to make up the inch of height between them, and that his longer arms wouldn’t sit comfortably in the normal waltz position. But the truth was he just simply liked the intimacy of the touch, and how it kept Sherlock just that little bit closer. Sherlock had yet to realize that was Mycroft’s intention. It was the advantage of being the older brother; Sherlock couldn’t _always_ work out when he was lying to him.

 

Sherlock took the lead and Mycroft found himself being led in quick steps along the entire floor space. Sherlock was an expert at this and it was starting to undo Mycroft. Sherlock was turning them in tight circles and Mycroft felt himself being swept along. He had no control. Sherlock was leading him entirely, and while it was beautiful to watch his brother do possibly the only thing he loved more than his silly little deduction games (there may have once been an argument for John being placed in that category, but Mycroft doubted he would remain there for much longer), there was a certain expectation that anything Sherlock could do, Mycroft could do better, and Mycroft’s lack of skill was quickly becoming apparent so long as Sherlock kept up this pace.

 

‘This is hardly a normal tempo,’ Mycroft complained, doing his best not to show how hard he was concentrating.

 

‘No, I changed my mind,’ Sherlock said. ‘It needed a bit more flourish.’

 

Mycroft raised his brow. ‘ _Flourish_ , Sherlock? Really? I knew I shouldn’t have let you lead. Perhaps I’d best take it back.’

 

‘I really would like to see you try, brother dear.’ They turned again and almost immediately Sherlock found himself being led once again. ‘Bastard,’ he breathed, but that wonderful smirk was back.

 

They danced for awhile longer. Sherlock occasionally stole the lead back with the intent on trying to see if he could make his brother stumble on a turn. But what Mycroft lacked in skill he made up in ability to read his brother’s intentions before Sherlock had even fully formulated the thought himself.

 

Eventually they had to stop. Mycroft’s love for his brother could only outweigh his detest for physical activity for so long. Mycroft lunged deeply forward, dipping Sherlock almost all the way to the ground. Sherlock hadn’t stepped back, or thrown an arm out to stop himself, trusting Mycroft not to drop him. Of course he knew he had his brother’s trust, as Sherlock had his, but it was always touching to see him act upon it.

 

‘A little dramatic of you, Mycroft, don’t you think,’ Sherlock said. ‘I know I don’t weigh much, but do you think you should be doing this, at your age.’

 

Mycroft shot his brother an overly fake smile. ‘Oh, Sherlock. You never do learn not to be smart to the person holding you up.’ Mycroft let go and Sherlock fell the inch or so between him and the floorboards. Sherlock laughed and remained on the floor, crossing his legs at the ankles as Mycroft stood up. The elder Holmes made his way back to his chair and downed the last sip of his whiskey. He was hot now, hot and sweaty. It was disgusting.

 

‘Did you want a drink?’ he asked, holding up the decanter before pouring himself just a snifter more. Sherlock nodded and sat up on his elbows to accept the drink. He caught Mycroft’s sleeve with his other hand before he pulled away, tipping Mycroft forward ever so slightly when Sherlock fell back against the floor.

 

‘Thank you, Mycroft,’ he said sincerely, and Mycroft knew it wasn’t just for letting him dance. It was a thank you for being there, to help keep Sherlock in one piece regardless of the fact that he had warned him that indulging in relationships would shatter him.

 

‘How many times? There really is no need to thank me,’ Mycroft said. Sherlock released his sleeve and Mycroft stood back up straight. A moment of silence passed as they both took a sip of their drinks, and was broken as Sherlock’s phone began to ring.

 

‘Oh, he’s noticed I’m missing,’ Sherlock said, putting his drink down to reach into his pocket. ‘Earlier than I expected him to.’

 

‘But later than you were hoping,’ Mycroft finished for him. Sherlock looked up. ‘Are you going to answer it?’

 

Sherlock glanced back down at his phone. ‘No,’ he said eventually, rejecting the call. Instantly Sherlock was back on the verge of one of his dark, depressive states, and Mycroft truly couldn’t stand to see his brother like that. He sighed deeply and looked down at Sherlock.

 

‘Ok, Sherlock, listen, and do cherish this because I shan’t be saying it again. You are wrong to give up on this relationship with John. He will still need you, and _clearly_ you need him. You asked me once how I would know if I was lonely, well I don’t, but looking at you right now, I think I have a pretty good idea. I’m not saying things will go back to the way they were, but we both know it won’t if all you do is sulk.’

 

Sherlock protested. ‘I am not sulking.’

 

Mycroft ignored him. ‘I told you not to get involved, but now that you are, as much as it pains me to say, it’s best you _remain_ involved. If it doesn’t work out, then I am still here. We’ll simply just spend more time together, just like the old days.’

 

‘What a depressing thought.’ Sherlock’s mobile began ringing again.

 

‘Yes, all the more reason to pick up the phone.’

 

Sherlock opened his mouth but Mycroft cut him off before he could say thank you. ‘Yes, I know. Just answer the phone, would you.’

 

Mycroft left the room to give Sherlock some privacy. Any hope he had had of finding a place for Sherlock in his bed tonight vanished, but it wasn’t a bad thing. He had hopefully helped his brother, assured him that his and John’s relationship would not just end like that. For once, Mycroft had found pleasure in someone else’s happiness, and he contemplated briefly that this must be what having a friend or being in a relationship would feel like. It was most decidedly the road to ruin, and he didn’t give it another thought. Mycroft was alone, but he wasn’t lonely, and he would always have Sherlock. All going well, Sherlock would always have John, and while he would no longer be right at Sherlock’s side, nothing about their friendship would indeed have to change.

 

 Sherlock and Mycroft would still be alone, but they would be alone, together.


End file.
